Love Letter
by outtabreath
Summary: Written for a Valentine's Day challenge on LiveJournal: Tony writes a love letter; Jarvis helps. Rating for one description and one word.  Pepper does not actually appear in this fic.


Thanks to the lovely ladies of writers anonymous, my forever friend and beta, miss steph, and the wonderful people in the Tony/Pepper communities on LiveJournal.

This fic was written for the Valentine's Day challenge and for the prompt: It's you. (and no one else).

Disclaimer: I am not Stan Lee. You may now pick yourselves up off the floor onto which you have fallen and read...

**~*~**_**Love Letter**_** by outtabreath~*~**

_Dear Potts_.

"No, Sir."

Tony frowned at the screen.

"What do you mean '_no_?'"

"I believe that you should address Miss Potts by her first name."

"But she likes it when I call her Potts."

"Not in a love letter, Sir."

Tony sighed. "Fine. " He backspaced and replaced _Potts_ with _Pepper_. "Better, Dr. Ruth?"

"Much," Jarvis said.

There was a long moment of silence as Tony stared at the blinking cursor. "This is a stupid idea. I'm going to buy her a tiara."

"Miss Potts doesn't want a tiara, Sir."

"A car, then. She needs a car."

"She has a car."

"A _better_ car," Tony said, eyes glazing over slightly. "A Lamborghini. Or a Porsche. Or a Bugatti. I want a Bugatti. Send Potts an email."

"Of course, Sir. The letter, Sir."

"Slave driver," muttered Tony, pulling himself out of visions of flying through the Italian countryside, Potts at his side, her hair shining red-gold in the sun and swirling in the breeze. He tapped his fingers gently on the keyboard for several seconds before inspiration struck: _You're not my first Valentine._"Not even your forty-first, Sir. There was the year you celebrated Valentine's the entire month of February. Perhaps it would be best that you not remind Miss Potts of that occasion."

"It was going to end nicely, you know. I was going to say that I want her to be my last Valentine," Tony pointed out even as he erased the words.

"An admirable sentiment, Sir, but I fear that it would be lost on Miss Potts if she refused to read past the first sentence."

"I'm turning you off," Tony threatened, scowling at the fruit of his labor - two words, a comma and a whole lot of white.

"That would be ill-advised, Sir. I have made an exhaustive review of love letters and am well-prepared to advise you."

"I can do this," Tony said, as much to himself as to his computer.

An image of Pepper splayed out beneath him, arching up, hoarsely calling his name, seared its way through his head. He typed: _You are _so _hot and sexy and I can't wait to get you into bed._He stared at the screen. Maybe it wasn't _quite_ what he was trying to convey.

"Perhaps…," Jarvis said.

"Never mind," he interrupted. "I know." He erased everything after_ You are_ and waited for inspiration.

"Tell her how you _feel, _Sir," Jarvis prompted. "All of the guides on these matters state unequivocally that that is where one should start."

"I _feel_ that she is hot and sexy and that I can't wait to get her into bed," Tony groaned. "But she knows that already. I tell her that all the time."

"Perhaps it is time to tell her something new then," Jarvis said diplomatically.

"Fine," Tony muttered before adding _the best and I'm happy that you're my Valentine_ to the _You are._

"Oh my."

"Shut it," Tony ordered. "I'm not good at this stuff. Bullshitting, getting a woman - or women - into bed, I'm your man. Telling one that I'm happy she's staying there and putting up with me? Not so much. Anyway, I have a _card_ for her. I can just underline some words and write 'love, Tony' on it. She'll love it." Tony slid back from the desk. "That's enough."

Jarvis didn't respond. Tony waited. He began to tap his foot.

Twenty seconds later, Jarvis caved. "Sir, it's your first Valentine's Day with Miss Potts and I'm sure she'd appreciate something more personal than just a mass-produced card."

"Hey!" Tony protested. "It's a _Hallmark_ card - top of the line. It _plays music_. It took me ten minutes to pick out that sucker. I must've read fifty of the damn things before I found the perfect blend of humor and romance. It's a good card.

"And I got her gifts. A weekend at a spa. And a watch. With diamonds. Lots of personal stuff going on here."

"Of course, Sir."

"Exactly," Tony said decidedly, getting up and heading towards the suit.

"It's just…never mind, Sir. Do you want me to run a diagnostic on the missile launcher? During the last mission there was a point three second delay in deployment."

Tony sagged. "Out with it, Jarv. It's just what?"

"The watch is, of course, spectacular, but you gave a similar gift to Miss Dorris in 2005 and you have given several of your other…companions the gift of spa weekends."

Tony trudged back to the keyboard and threw himself into the chair. "Relationships are hard work, Jarvis."

"Which is why you have heretofore avoided them, Sir."

"Point taken," Tony conceded before realizing that there were reasons he was in a relationship with Pepper. Good, clear reasons. He quickly deleted everything and started over: _My Potts.  
_  
"Sir." There was a note of warning in the tone.

"No talking," Tony said. "I have a plan. Just watch it unfold." He nodded decidedly at the _My Potts _and quickly added: _It's you. It's always been you. Before I even realized it was you, it was you. _

"It is rather repetitive."

"No, it's not - it's underscoring my point. And you're a computer - leave the letter writing to the human."

On a roll, Tony added:_ And now I know: I'm a better person because of you. I survived the first eight years of the century because of you. I thought about you in Afghanistan and it made me breathe a little easier. There's no one else I'd trust with the RT, and the heart it powers, except for you. I don't mind going to meetings as much because I get to watch you during them. I've learned that cuddling - just cuddling - can be really awesome because of you. I want to go on missions and come back because of you. I want to talk and listen and actually _sleep_ in a bed because of you._

_And you're hot and sexy and funny and brilliant and strict and loving and more than a little amazing._

_It's you, Pepper. _

_And no one else. Not now. Not ever._

_Your Tony_.

He breathed out and read the words. Not too shabby.

"Well?"

"It is very clear that it is about Miss Potts."

"_Jarvis_."

"And very much from the heart, Sir."

"Damn straight." He leaned back in the chair and grinned at the screen. "She's going to be touched."

"Undoubtedly."

"And so will I."

"The diagnostics on the suit, Sir?" Jarvis asked, his tone more than a little plaintive.

"Run 'em. I'll stop." He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Pepper Potts was up there - most likely bent over a computer, her soft and skillful fingers typing away. He closed his eyes and pictured her - pink and gold and white and red. Lovely. In desperate need of distraction and some quality Tony-time.

"Where would she go, you think, Jarvis? If she could go anywhere?"

"Pardon, Sir?"

"Miss Potts. If I was going to whisk her away for a romantic Valentine's Day weekend, just the two of us, where would she want to go?"

"She has run several searches on Bed and Breakfasts in Vermont."

Tony suppressed a shudder - Vermont _and_ a B&B? - and clapped his hands. "Book one. The most bucolic, Vermont-y B&B you can find. Arrange a trip and don't let her know about it."

"Certainly, Sir."

"And print the letter. I'm giving her part of her present early." Tony grabbed the letter as it whirred off the printer and folded it into a paper airplane before striding to the staircase, happily anticipating how her look of annoyance at being disturbed (Pepper wasn't a fan of paper airplanes crashing onto her desk) would melt into touched happiness when she read the letter. She was going to _do_ things to him. Good things.

It was time to start celebrating.


End file.
